


Company Party

by UnbiddenRhythm



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, F/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, there's like a smidge of plot but it's really just a sprinkling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24189070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnbiddenRhythm/pseuds/UnbiddenRhythm
Summary: Reeve conspires with his assistant to sneak away from the company party.It does not go how he expects.
Relationships: Reeve Tuesti & Reeve Tuesti's Assistant, Reeve Tuesti/Reeve Tuesti's Assistant
Comments: 11
Kudos: 47





	Company Party

**Author's Note:**

> My first smut. That's how far gone I am into this ship. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Reeve adjusted his bow tie and cuffs, anxious. He thought by now he'd be used to wearing the tuxedo, but no—he felt as out of place as ever in the glitzy hall. 

At least the party so far seemed better than last, stuck with Palmer as the man rampaged through the dessert spread. This year Reeve avoided the portly Director, though it'd come at the price of being sucked into a cadre of Presidential sycophants.

The Man himself seemed pleasantly disposed; Reeve guessed alcohol responsible. Jovially, President Shinra slapped Reeve on the back. "Now here's a man after my own heart—engineers!" He crowed. Reeve smelled the stale stench of cigar on the President's breath, but forced a smile. Someone came by to snap a picture, the flash blinding. 

By the time he'd extricated himself from the gaggle, Reeve felt too warm. He adjusted his bow tie again.

"Nicely done, sir. You acquitted yourself well,” he heard his assistant say, and he turned.

His stomach fluttered—she looked _stunning_. An absolute vision in a dress of teal silk. Reeve drank in the sight of her face framed by auburn curls, her ruby lips curving into a smile. He adjusted his bow tie once more.

Ever the dutiful assistant, she extended her arm to gift him a glass of water.

"You always have perfect timing," Reeve acknowledged, taking a long sip to cool down. "And thank you. I find if I don't say anything around him everything mostly works out fine."

She chuckled. "Sounds like my approach with the other Directors." Then she scrunched her nose, frowning. "Though, doesn't always work out. I barely just managed to lose Palmer. Apparently the bar is serving hot buttered rum, and it's his duty to get everyone to drink it." They laughed and as she bent over in mirth, Reeve tried his best to politely ignore the low cut of her dress and the heat rising on his neck.

Then her expression changed. "Oh, not again..." Reeve turned and fought a groan.

Heidegger. The other Director approached, staring daggers at Reeve. "He's been eying me since the start,"—she murmured to Reeve—"I turned him down for dinner the other day when he asked during business hours..."

Heidegger bounded next to them. Taller and wider than both, his presence felt imposing. Even threatening.

"There you are!" Heidegger's voice boomed as he stared down at Reeve’s assistant. "I've been looking for you. Surely you'll not deny me a dance, lovely?"

Reeve's body iced over, cold with fury at the disrespectful way Heidegger spoke to _his_ assistant. Yet he made no move to say anything. _Not my place,_ Reeve thought to himself. Speaking on her behalf could give the wrong impression, and experience had taught Reeve his assistant was more than capable of taking care of herself.

Yet she surprised Reeve by grabbing his arm. "I'm so _sorry_ , sir," she addressed Heidegger, voice apologetic but face radiating charm, "I've _just_ promised Director Tuesti a dance, and we all know I shouldn't say no to _the boss_." She exaggerated the last words, winking at Heidegger as she led their retreat toward the dance floor. As they slunk away, Reeve deposited his water on the nearest table and looked at his fuming peer. He barely contained his smug smirk before slinking away with her.

As Reeve followed her toward the small throng of dancing couples, he studied the splay of her dress behind her. When he noted the high side slit and the sleek leg it revealed, Reeve gulped and felt warm again.

They made it to the dance floor and she pulled him into position, placing his hand around her waist. His fingers brushed her bare back, her skin cool beneath him. She looked up and smiled. "Thank you for the excuse, Director. I appreciate you playing along."

Staring at her plump lips, the sheen of her hair, even the freckles on her shoulders, he belatedly said, "I don't mind it at all."

She looked amused. "I knew you'd understand."

"I heard he's been difficult on all your deliveries to the Public Safety departm—" she stopped him with a finger on his lips.

"No more talking about Heidegger. Or work. Dancing is something I do for pleasure."

Reeve felt every nerve in his body jolt with energy, and he nodded. Slowly she pulled her finger away. Though he was blushing, Reeve committed the feeling of how she brushed his lip to memory.

"So, what should we talk about?" Reeve asked, hating how dumb he sounded. But she only smiled.

"We don't have to talk about anything. We can just...dance." She said. "Do you not enjoy dancing?"

"I'm…out of practice," Reeve muttered.

"You're doing great, Director.” She sidled even closer to him as they swept their way across the floor. “Don't over think it."

Reeve registered a few heads turning at the sight of them. He was breaking one of his own rules; violating the self-imposed boundaries he'd drawn between him and his subordinates. Yet, surely others now noticed the typically reserved Director Tuesti dancing with his—albeit lovely—assistant. Yet...he found himself not much caring. The way she felt in his arms, her scent, the softness of her skin...

 _Worth it,_ Reeve decided.

More than a few others had noticed them now. Reeve swore Reno winked at them. At the edge of the dance floor, Heidegger's surly form loomed over several of the onlookers.

She also seemed to notice this.

"He seems like he's biding his time," she frowned.

"Yes. He does." Reeve didn't enjoy the thought of Heidegger sweeping her away as soon as the music ceased. As well he could, Reeve steered them toward the other side of the dancing square, nearer to the bar. He leaned to say in a low voice in her ear, "Why don't we finish early and grab a drink?" She nodded as she caught on, and together they slipped away and into the crowd before the music came to rest.

It wouldn't stop Heidegger, but it would buy Reeve time. They grabbed their drinks and Reeve leaned to whisper in her ear, his tone mock-serious. "I just remembered I have some, uh, very important documents to review in my office." Heidegger's head and beard bobbed midst the crowd again, lurking nearer.

"Ah, yes, _of course_ , sir. That does sound _very_ important." She schooled her face into a serious expression, save for the glimmer in her eye.

Weaving through the throng, they stole away to the elevator.

No sooner had the lift door closed did they burst into a fit of giggles.

"I can't imagine he's going to be happy once he realizes," she said, after several gasps.

"Probably not. Especially not after you duped him twice," Reeve pointed out. She shrugged, face sheepish.

"Can you blame me? Dancing with Heidegger—I'd never live down _that_ staff gossip!" She looked smug. "As it stands, _now_ I'll be the talk of the town in a good way."

"And why's that?"

"Oh please, sir." She rolled her eyes but her cheeks reddened. "Most staff wouldn't turn down a chance to dance with _you_ , Director." Reeve felt his face flush and sipped his drink, awash in the amber liquid's burn.

The elevator pinged the arrival of their floor.

As soon as they reached the office, she slunk onto the leather couch. "Whew," she sighed. "It's nice to be off my feet." She stretched her legs and pointed her high-heeled toes up and down, and Reeve did his best to pretend not to notice the slit of her dress and how it draped open to reveal her thigh. She sipped her drink, then placed her glass on the coffee table and leaned back, arm flung over the couch. A thin dress strap fell loose from her freckled shoulder.

"Well, sir?" She looked up at him with a playful expression. "I understand there are some important documents for me to review."

Reeve wanted to say something clever in return, but in truth found his brain short-circuiting at the sight of her. "Um," he started, sounding stupid.

She laughed. "I'll chalk that one up to the alcohol. C'mon,” she patted the seat next to her on the couch, “sit down, Director."

He placed his drink on the table and did as told, and she sidled closer to him, looking expectant.

...She did this sometimes. She looked at him _like this,_ and he never knew how to respond. Did he only imagine the wanton desire in her expression? Part of him was sure she waited for him to make a move, and yet—if he were wrong—if he made her feel forced in anyway...

"Something on your mind?" She asked.

"Heidegger...he's been harassing you for a while now, right?"

She sat straighter. "You're thinking about _Heidegger_ right now?" She seemed mildly annoyed.

"No, it's not that it's just—" he was never good at expressing himself like this. "I don't ever want to make you feel..." Reeve trailed off, struggling to find the words.

But she seemed to understand him without them. "You don't make me feel the way Heidegger does." She said in a quiet voice. "Quite the opposite, in fact."

There was no mistaking it now. She leaned forward, close to his face. He felt the warmth of her body, pressed against him in her silky dress. She wanted him to kiss her, Reeve knew, but still...

"I'm your supervisor. I don't want you to feel...pressured."

She bit her lip, face both sympathetic and amused. Perhaps even a touch exasperated. "Reeve, I _don't_." She leaned close to him again, voice low. "And you being _the boss_ is part of the fun." He raised his eyebrows. He wasn't expecting _that_ sentiment.

She practically leaned over him now. Making a decision, Reeve placed his hands on her hips and pulled her onto his lap flush against him.

Then he kissed her.

Energy crackled between them, long pent up, eager for release. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, relishing the press of her body against him. Reeve felt his entire body course with arousal as her soft lips met his once, then again, and again, and...

"I've wanted to do this for a long time," she admitted.

"Me too," Reeve said, pulling her into his hungry kiss again. It seemed neither could get enough of the other; their hands roamed and she rocked against him. Desire pooled in Reeve’s stomach, fiery and fervent.

She clutched his jacked in her fists and deepened the kiss. As she did, she suckled his bottom lip between her own. Reeve groaned, his hands spanning up and down her sides, fingers sliding across the silk.

Meanwhile, she tugged his bow tie loose and thumbed open the top buttons of his shirt. His neck finally exposed to cooler air, Reeve broke their kiss with a relieved sigh. "That's been bothering me all night."

"I noticed, _Director_ ," she chuckled, and she leaned forward to trail her lips up his neck. Reeve gasped, unbidden. Encouraged by this, she peppered him with kisses from collarbone to jaw, deft fingers working the rest of his vest and shirt buttons undone. When finished, she ran her nails down his bare chest. Reeve shivered.

Astride him, she looked a sight to behold. Her face and chest flushed, and silk splayed across him and her both save for where the high slit exposed her soft leg.

She leaned to whisper in his ear. " _Director..._ Is it all right if I keep calling you that?"

"Honestly, right now you can call me literally anything you want," he panted. She laughed, pressing a kiss to his earlobe. Her hands roamed his chest, tracing over his nipples and teasing them with feather-light circles before trailing down his abdomen. His breath hitched.

"Good, _Director."_ Reeve shivered again at how she said his title. He turned her face to him, noses touching.

"The way you _say_ that..." he growled against her lips before claiming them with his again. She giggled against him.

"Like it?" She teased. Indeed, she drove Reeve wild. To show just how much, he placed both his hands on her hips for leverage and ground his erection hard against her. She moaned, throwing her head back in her pleasure.

"Not as much as you do, clearly," he said as he pressed fervent kisses to her bared neck.

The thin straps of her dress hung loose off her shoulders now. Reeve raised both hands from her hips to shoulders and dragged the straps down, freeing her arms. The silk crumpled around her waist.

Her breasts now exposed, she suddenly seemed nervous. To reassure her, Reeve pressed light kisses along her clavicle up to her mouth. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against her. She sighed into him, and he kissed her full again before pulling away to turn his attention to her breasts.

Gingerly he cupped one in his palm with one hand, and brought his mouth to her other. His tongue lightly lapped her nipple. Reeve relished the moan he drew from her. He repeated, with the barest of pressure, and for his efforts she rewarded him with a louder growl. He continued to kiss, noting the goosebumps shivering across her body, the way her nipples formed taut peaks. With urgency she grabbed his hair and dug her fingers into his scalp.

It was Reeve's turn to moan as she tugged; it was the sweetest kind of tension, the way she pulled. His tongue moved faster and without warning he switched to her other breast. Above him she bucked, grinding against his cock. He moaned again, louder this time. Reeve felt hard enough to cut glass, tight and constrained in his pants. He had _never_ wanted anyone as badly as her.

"Hang on," he murmured against her breast. Then, Reeve swung her toward the couch, laying her down on it. He settled on top of her, letting his hand sweep up along her exposed leg, teasing the skin just below the high slit before moving back up to thumb her nipple. She mewled and tugged his hair again.

Reeve kissed her breasts and then trailed downward, across her navel. When he came to where the silk dress crumpled at her waist, rather than remove the garment he moved down to her exposed leg. His fingers caressed down the length of her leg, and she shivered under his delicate touch. Leaning down, he kissed the inner part of her thigh, pulling the dress open the slightest bit more.

" _Director,"_ she panted, and the hunger in her voice made his cock twitch. Eagerly, he kissed her inner thigh again, planting a feather-light path moving up and in. Further he pulled the dress. The sight of lacy black panties greeted him; he felt hot looking at them. Tracing his fingers lightly over her thin cloth, he moved up and down with methodical rhythm. She whimpered more, and Reeve spared the chance to look up. Her eyes were closed, face flushed and furrowed with pleasure, nipples taut. She looked divine, better than his wildest dreams. Reeve almost couldn't believe this was happening.

Refocusing on the task before him, he trailed his kisses over the black lace now. "Director!" She clearly struggled now to keep her voice down as she bucked beneath him. "Director, _please_." Her voice pleaded.

"Since you've asked so nicely," he said, hooking his finger around the black lace to pull the garment aside.

He tasted her.

...The _sound_ she made! Reeve vowed to commit the pleasured trill to memory. Again his tongue traced upwards the length of her slit, and relished in the delighted quavering of her body, the way she tasted, how wet she already was for him. The tip of his tongue trailed the underside of her clit with feathery pressure, then circled 'round firmer. He kissed then suckled, and savored her whimpered trembling under his touch. " _Yes."_ She said, moan breathy. "Yes _, Director."_

Damn him if he ever forgot the absolute _music_ of her pleasured sighs, he mused as he continued to thrill her.

His hand stroked her bared leg, coming to squeeze her thigh to steady her as she undulated. Her hands fisted into his hair again and this time she showed no mercy as she pulled, fingers begging for purchase against the pleasure of his mouth.

" _Reeve_ ," the pleading use of his name piqued his attention.

"Is that okay?"

" _More_ than." She caught his eye. "Worried, sir?" He looked away, bashful.

"I'm out of practice."

She bit down on her lip, stifling a helpless laugh. "You're doing great," she said in a breathy voice. "Don't over think it, Director."

She grabbed his roaming hand on her leg, and laced it with hers. Then, she trailed it upwards, along her thigh right to her core. She coaxed his finger inside her.

Reeve bit down on his moan. She felt _so wet_ and hot; the sensation of her enfolding him made his cock feel almost painfully hard. Her hips bucked against his hand impatiently, and he took charge, sliding in further, curling his finger. He rubbed a locus of nerves and she threw her head back with a shout of ecstasy.

"Just like _that_! _"_

He did as told. His hand feverishly worked in her while his mouth descended again. She felt like heaven, warm and blissful beneath his touch. With his spare hand he grabbed the soft flesh of her thigh, lightly squeezing as her hips bucked against his face. His tongue continued to stroke, lap, taste her and she moved viciously against him. Reeve felt electrified—and delighted he produced this effect on her.

Daring and confident, he slipped a second finger inside her, increased the speed of his thrusts while his tongue continue tracing sinful circles.

She unraveled before him, her whimpers growing and body shaking as she chanted his title: "Yes, Director, _yes_." Her body tensed, and she curled against him—

She came with his fingers inside her and his mouth kissing her clit.

Time seemed to stand still as she fell back into herself. Slowly, Reeve withdrew his hand and pressed a lingering kiss to her before sitting up to examine his handiwork. She stared at him, disheveled, expression satisfied yet seemingly far from sated.

"Don't tell me we're done..." She failed to keep the disappointed from her voice, finger tracing the outline of his erection. He shivered.

"I-I don't have a condom in this office," Reeve lamented. "But I am more than happy to continue servicing _you_."

She pouted, crinkling her nose, thumbing the fabric of his vest between her fingers. "That offer is generous, but doesn't seem fair." Thinking a moment, she said, "What about your apartment? Do you have some there?"

He did. But... "That would mean sneaking up to the executive level. Like this." He gestured to their unkempt attire. She looked at him, mischief in her eyes.

"Who's going to see us?"

Reeve couldn't rebut her. With a smug giggle, she sat up and pulled her dress straps up, readjusting herself to appear decent. Reeve grabbed a tissue to tidy his hands and face, then made a halfhearted attempt to button his shirt and vest. He didn't bother with the bow tie.

He rose first, offering his hand to help her from the couch. Her entire body was flushed pink, her hair mussed, and dress creased beyond oblivion. Still, she looked captivating. Reeve planted a soft kiss on her cheek, then guided her out and locked the office behind them.

"Hang on," she said, overtaking the lead down the hall, "we need to go to the rec lockers first."

"Why?"

She gestured to her dress. "I can't leave your suite wearing _this_ tomorrow. I need to grab my gym bag—I have a change of clothes."

They stole to the far side of the 63rd floor and entered the darkened rec center. Reeve stood watch while she slipped into the locker room and retrieved a gray duffel bag. Sneaking to the elevators, they clasped hands as they made their way up, both giddy with anticipation.

The elevated dinged their arrival. The doors open.

There stood Tseng.

Reeve stalled, shocked. Why Tseng would be on the executive level seemed a mystery to him. Assignment from Rufus? Digging into the personal affairs of the Directors? Whatever the reason, Reeve never expected the Turk here, now.

Tseng seemed equally surprised to see them, but taking in their disheveled state, smirked with wicked understanding. He turned to Reeve.

"A deal, Director? I didn't see you, and you didn't see me."

With Reeve still to shocked to answer, his assistant spoke for him. "Deal."

“I wish both of you an enjoyable evening," the Turk smirked again as he took his place on the lift.

As the doors closed, she burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh Reeve, if you could see your face..."

He rolled his eyes, face and neck feeling hot. "' _Who's going to see us,'_ huh?"

She laughed harder. The sight and sound of it burned a fire in Reeve's belly. _Gorgeous—she's gorgeous._ She smiled brightly at him as he took her hand. Reeve led her into his suite, locking the door behind them.

She'd only ever been inside his apartment on official business, but something felt _right_ to Reeve as he watched how casually she tossed her gym bag into the closet, as if she'd done it a million times, as if that were naturally its home. Her home. Then she gave him a look—playful, sultry even—and eyed the door to his bedroom. He crossed to her, wrapping her into his arms as he pressed her against the wall with a searing kiss.

They wasted no more time making their way to his room, and once there, all pretense of patience vanished. Off shucked her dress, his jacket, their shoes. Frantic, they undid the buttons of Reeve's vest and shirt, and then she knelt before him, clad only in her black lacy panties. Pulling off his cummerbund, she pressed a kiss to his abdomen as she loosened the fixtures of his pants. Reeve breathed heavily, knees feeling weak.

"Let's—" he stammered, "I need to lay down."

She complied, pulling him over to the bed and dragging him downward to lay on his back. Then she helped him free his from his pants.

They each took in the other’s state of undress, hungry and yearning. Something in her expression looked mischievous. "What is it?" Reeve asked.

"Hmm," was her only reply.

And then bent over, she speckled kisses up his inner thigh as she traced her fingers over the protruding outline of his cock. Reeve moaned, hips pressing forward into her touch. Her nails hooked over the top of the garment, lightly tickling the skin of his hip. His breath hitched. She pulled down the garment and took him in her palm. He hissed beneath her as she stroked him a few times, thumb circling the slickness dripping from his tip.

Reeve stared at the intense darkness of her eyes, the flush of her skin and curve of her breasts. The expression on her face as she stroked only heightened his desire.

Then, her lips descended upon him.

White-hot pleasure coursed through his veins. He gasped. She moved slowly, starting by suckling the tip of his cock, her tongue tracing gently around him before roaming down his shaft. Reeve arched back against the bed, threading his fingers into her hair.

" _Yes,"_ Reeve hissed.

She worked him and up and down with only her tongue, and it alone rocketed Reeve to the edge. Sweeping back up she pressed both her lips to his tip, pressing the faintest kiss, tasting him.

Slowly, she parted her lips and her mouth enveloped him, first just the tip, then—

Reeve couldn't contain his groan as she took him full into her mouth. She bobbed once slowly and he gripped her hair tighter. Oh, the sensations were too much! Warm, wet, wondrous… He held her head, guiding her languid pace, whimpering beneath her.

"I have to say,"—she paused to murmured against him, and he shivered to feel the vibrations of her words against his member—"you're much louder than I expected."

Reeve's face felt hot. "S-sorry."

She looked up, rueful. " _Don't_ apologize!" She licked the tip of his cock again, savoring him. "I _like_ hearing you." As if to prove a point, she took him even deeper into her mouth this time, to his hilt. Reeve couldn't contain his pleasured shout. Yet, just as he approached his apex, she pulled away, leaving him on the edge.

"Where are those condoms?"

 _Ah, right_. Reeve fumbled toward the nightstand, limbs jittery, to retrieve a box and small bottle of lubricant. When he pulled out the condom, she snatched it from him and unwrapped it, threading it onto him with ease. Condom set and lubed, she lifted herself above him, then looked at up expectantly.

"Is this all right, Director?" Her voice sounded sinful. Reeve had to believe it was yet another tease; who knew his assistant could have so much fun tormenting him like this?

 _Not that I mind,_ Reeve thought. He grabbed her by her hips and dragged her down onto him. They both gasped as he entered her. Every fiber in Reeve's body felt on _fire_. She felt so hot and tight around him.

She moved first, setting a pace both quick and hard. He found himself captivated by the sight of her bouncing breasts, the healthy flush spreading 'cross her cheeks and chest. She moved against him with such delicious friction he thought it shouldn't even be possible. Reeve's fingers gripped her hips, his jaw clenched. Each nerve in his body buzzed, his passion climbing toward its peak rapidly.

 _Not yet_ , he forced himself to think. With the little self-control he had remaining, he grabbed her hips and swung her down to the bed, rolling atop her. Reeve muffled her shriek of surprise with a kiss. His pace unrelenting, she dragged her nails against his back, digging in against his desperate thrusts. He still climbed toward climax, yet he felt he didn't want this to end yet. Or ever. " _Director_ , just like that—"

"Only if you keep making those sounds," he gritted his teeth, grinding harder against her, sweat slicking his brow.

" _Anything_ , Director," she sighed. Reeve felt struck by an idea that felt almost too bold…then again, his instincts hadn't failed him yet tonight. Pinning her hips, he slowed, _slowed_ his pace to purposeful, achingly-controlled thrusts. She keened against him.

"You like saying my title." He leaned over her, his voice ragged in her ear. "What else do you like about fucking _the boss_?" She looked thrilled at his words.

"I—ah!" She bit her lip, pleasure etched in her face. "I enjoy being told what to do, _sir_ ," she panted beneath him.

 _Fuck_. A scenario beyond his wildest dreams, indeed. Reeve's tender thrusts drove hard but not enough to push either of them over the edge. Then, almost painfully slow, he withdrew, silencing her protest with a finger stifling her lips.

"Hands and knees," was all he needed to say. Eagerly she complied, rolling into position. Reeve sidled up to her, marveling at every curve of her body. They both hissed as he entered her again. He started slowly, driving into her with tender pressure, before quickening the pace _just_ so.

Reeve's hands roamed from her hips to span across her ass and back, up to her hair where he wove a hand to massage her scalp, taking care to not tug too hard. Then, she surprised him by looking over her shoulder to say, "Pull it."

 _Fuck!_ He thought as he gripped harder, increasing the speed of his thrusts, the slap of him against her resounding in the room. In her pleasure, she grabbed a pillow and pressed her face into it, stifling her moans.

But Reeve felt emboldened, flushed with confidence and arousal. Careful to not hurt, he tugged her head off the pillow. Leaning over, he whispered in her ear, "Uh-uh. I want to hear you." He thrust harder, relishing her peals of delight. "In fact," he continued, "I want you to be so loud, Heidegger could hear you next door."

She blissfully complied, helpless moans culminating in ragged shouts of his name and title as she unraveled. The sound of her voice enough to undo him, Reeve came. Stars flooded his vision, his body ablaze.

They slowed, both trembling, then collapsed together onto the bed, sweat-slicked and sated. Still behind her, Reeve nuzzled her neck and stroked her hair, pressing soft kisses to the nape as they spooned. She sighed, sounding satisfied.

"You are...surprising." She broke the silence.

"What do you mean?" Reeve felt nervous.

"It's a good thing," she turned to face him, reassuring. "I never expected you to be like _that_." She bit her lip to hide her smug grin. "What you said about Heidegger..."

Reeve felt himself blushing, and he shook his head. "He's not actually _there_."

At least, that's what he'd told himself in the moment. Reeve wasn't sure he'd muster the courage to pull such a stunt if the other Director could in fact hear.

But the wicked expression on her face challenged this notion. "As far as you know..." _s_ he winked, and he blushed harder.

... _Fuck_. So, maybe Reeve _did_ like the idea of Heidegger hearing them. The other Director could mock Reeve as much as he liked—Reeve still had _her._

Wrapping her into his arms, Reeve kissed her softly and settled the bed sheets over them.

"I must say, Director," her fingers tickled circles on his chest, "as far as company parties go, this is my favorite one yet."

He smiled. "Mine too."

* * *

She took stock of his empty cupboards with a frown. "Do you never eat?"

"I usually just grab and go from the cafeteria," he said, sheepish.

She clucked her tongue. "Honestly, I don't know how you function most days. The _only_ edible thing here is coffee!"

He shrugged. "That's all I need to function."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on. We're going out to get breakfast."

"I know a great place in Sector 5. My treat."

Her smile looked radiant. "Sounds perfect."

No sooner had they exited Reeve's suite, hand-in-hand, did they see Heidegger emerge from his own. He looked shocked and sour to see them together.

"Morning, Heidegger." Reeve waved as they hurried to the lift, struggling to contain their amusement. "Great party last night, huh?"

**Author's Note:**

> As always, open to concrit, and thank you for reading!


End file.
